


JohnLock: He's Dead

by KingOfHearts709



Category: Sherlock - Fandom, johnlock - Fandom
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, St. Barts, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-09 01:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4328706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingOfHearts709/pseuds/KingOfHearts709
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Sherlock won't come back...</p>
            </blockquote>





	JohnLock: He's Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Remember that one AU we used to all love and hate, where John killed himself because Sherlock did? Yeah, that's this one. Trigger warning for suicide. xoxo

Sherlock trudged round and round the flat, alone, trying to come up with some reason or conclusion as to how this could have happened, how he could have prevented it.  
It was his fault.  
If he had just said something, anything, or gave a clue to say he was still alive, then this wouldn’t have happened.  
John Watson.  
His John Watson.  
He was dead.  
***  
“Sherlock?” Mycroft’s voice came across on the phone.  
“What?” Sherlock replied in a tone of annoyance. “I’m busy.”  
“It would seem there’s a bit of a... problem.”  
“I have no time to dive into the government’s affairs.”  
“Oh, no, brother, dear. This is far more serious.” Sherlock sat up. He knew nothing was any more serious than the government to Mycroft. This must be important.  
“What’s happened?” he asked, a small hint of worry in his tone.  
“John. It’s John.” Sherlock’s eyes widened and dilated at the same time. Something had happened to his John?  
“Where is he?”  
“He’s at St. Bart’s.”  
“Why would he be there?” Mycroft was silent for a moment, causing Sherlock to worry even more.  
“I’m sorry, little brother, but... he’s dead.” Sherlock paused for a long while. His phone slid out of his hand as he rushed up, shoes, coat and scarf left behind as he bounded down the stairs.  
No.  
Not John.  
The ground hurt beneath his bare feet as he took full speed into town before reaching the hospital.  
Not. John.  
He pushed open the doors and headed straight to where he knew John must be. He pushed open the doors and caught the sight of Molly and Mycroft standing a far distance away. It was only until he realised that they were being kept away from the body.  
His body.  
Sherlock could feel tears build in his eyes as he walked slowly to the dead man at the microscope.  
Where they had first met.  
His blonde hair was disheveled, dried blood surrounding his motionless head that lay on the table. In his hand was a gun, firmly held with no bullets left as it hung from his body next to the table. A note crumpled in his other hand.  
A note for Sherlock. Carefully taking it from his hand, he could feel the cold, bloodless skin under his as he unfolded the delicate paper.  
“You didn’t come back, so I’m coming to you. -John.”


End file.
